


Blinkweed Minuet

by EzraTheBlue



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Established Relationship, Feelings, Humor, M/M, Marijuana, Mischief, ignis has anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23743465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraTheBlue/pseuds/EzraTheBlue
Summary: Ignis receives a prescription for an herbal remedy to his stress disorder, and he bakes his medicinal herb into brownies. However, he makes two fatal errors:1. Cutting the edibles into normal brownie sizes.2. Leaving the tray unattended in Noctis' apartment.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 18
Kudos: 118





	Blinkweed Minuet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ScarlettArbuckle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettArbuckle/gifts).



> Happy belated birthday to Scarlett! She really encouraged this idea when I was pitching it so I decided to knock it out for her <3
> 
> Special thanks to [Cor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardNoctLife/) for giving this a read for me! (I appreciated your suggestions, and I just might have to expand, but that'll be a project for another day and another point of view. ;D)
> 
> The title is a nod back to a Cowboy Bebop episode.
> 
> One note - I do not smoke or ingest weed. I've got some friends that do, and I'm totally fine with people who use marijuana, it's just not for me! So, I'm not going off of firsthand experience for what it's like to get ridiculously high, so I apologize for any inaccuracies.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Blinkweed Minuet**

Ignis hadn’t thought he’d see the day, but really, he should have expected it. He knew he was far too stressed for it to be healthy for him, but the diagnosis of a stress disorder was more than he expected. Given the run-up to the Altissia trip and all the additional duties Ignis carried on his back, as well as the time he devoted to caring for three lovers, however, he decided it wasn't unrealistic for him to have been adversely affected. He sometimes felt as if the world turned on his fingers, or at least the world belonging to three very important people, and he had not realized just what damage that weight had caused.

Even less expected was the doctor’s prescription. Ignis had resisted anti-anxiety medications and treatment for his insomnia due to the laundry list of side effects attached to each one, and he feared he’d be sent to talk therapy, which he only saw as one more thing on his to-do list. Instead, taking everything into mind, the doctor recommended an alternative treatment: blinkweed. 

Ignis had heard of herbal remedies, naturopathy, and other alternative forms of medicine, and blinkweed was well-known as one. Blinkweed went by many names, by region: blinkweed, or weed, for short; potcha, or pot; merije in some places. It was the same plant wherever one went. Ignis had read that many people smoked or ate blinkweed for relaxation, and sometimes for its supposed “inspirational” properties. It had been made illegal in King Mors’ time (very likely as its use was popular among anti-Royalists and King Mors needed an excuse to arrest them), but it was legal under controlled circumstances under King Regis’ reign. The doctor suggested it would help Ignis relax and sleep, and side effects were limited as long as he didn’t overindulge. The worst it could do was make him somewhat hungry, lower his inhibitions, make him sluggish if he did need to be called to duty, and if he overindulged, possibly cause mild hallucinations. However, a small dose nightly would help ease Ignis’ anxiety. 

Ignis had agreed to try it. However, he objected to smoking it, fearful the smoke would damage his lungs. The doctor prescribed him edible blinkweed and sent him on his way to a repository. Ignis picked it up with only a small amount of shame.

Then, he Moogled a recipe for blinkweed brownies. Stereotypical, but the best option.

Getting a prescription for what was once an illicit substance was odd, but in most cases, it should not be troublesome, so Ignis thought. It was unfortunate that he had to resort to such lengths to maintain his mental health, but such was life. He would simply handle it in the most straightforward and logical manner he could, as clean as cutting through red tape.

He liked to think that most of the decisions he made were logical, the best option he could think of. 

Ignis decided to bake the brownies in Noctis' apartment. This was because most of his equipment was stored in Noctis’ apartment - since he cooked more frequently in Noctis’ apartment than his own - and he had some tidying-up to do anyway. He entered the apartment and immediately released a sigh when he realized just how much tidying-up there was to do. Noctis had left an emptied bag of potato chips upturned on the sofa and the kitchen table scattered with classified documents, and the laundry basket (which Ignis had _specifically_ asked Noctis to put away) was left completely ignored with the Gamestation controller left on top of it, as Noctis had clearly just tossed it aside to hurry out to his training session. Ignis sucked his cheeks in as he processed. He loved his Prince dearly, but sometimes he felt like everything he said was in one ear, out the other. 

Still, one thing at a time. He mixed up the brownies, carefully folding the blinkweed into the batter, and put them in to bake, then whipped around the apartment to get it into a relatively livable condition before Noctis returned, likely with at least one of the other two. Midway through the brownies’ bake time, Ignis received a text from Gladio with a photograph of Prompto showing off a target with a hole straight through the bullseye, beaming huge through the gap.

_“Check out Blondie’s training paying off like Iris on Monopoly night ;-)”_

That confirmed that Prompto was with them. He could have sworn he asked Gladio to refrain from pushing Prompto’s emergency training too hard, but perhaps Gladio and Prompto had agreed he had nothing to worry about. Ignis sighed and hurried to the refrigerator to ensure there was enough meat for four. It would be nice if he could have a little warning, but he could adapt. He considered himself quick-witted enough to handle whatever the world threw at him. 

Ignis pulled the brownies from the oven as soon as the timer went off, tested the tray with a toothpick, then set them to cool on the counter. The scent of warm chocolate filled the room, and Ignis realized his error - the others would surely smell these brownies when they arrived, and they certainly could not have these. 

There was only one logical solution - make a tray of brownies the others could eat, in order to keep them away from his. 

Ignis began to gather ingredients for a second batch, but found that there wasn’t enough baking chocolate in the cabinet. Cursing his lack of foresight, Ignis hurriedly cut his tray of blinkweed brownies into squares and set them on a rack to cool, put a note atop the stack reading “DO NOT EAT,” and hurried out to the grocery store for more chocolate. He could already hear his phone ringing and knew for certain the entire drive there and back would be spent on a phone call with the council. 

He considered having a conversation with the others about his medication, but what Noctis didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. (And oh, how it would hurt them if they knew he was stressed enough to need medicine for it.) He simply sent Noctis a text, _“Please do not eat the brownies in the kitchen. I will make you more later.”_ That would suffice.

However, in his haste, Ignis did not think that perhaps what _he_ didn’t know may very well hurt Noctis.

He did not know, could not have known, that Noctis, Gladio, and Prompto would arrive at Noctis’ apartment less than ten minutes after Ignis left and discover the unattended blinkweed brownies.

He did not know, though perhaps he should have predicted, that Noctis would disregard his text about not eating the brownies, as Noctis justified to Prompto and Gladio, “Hey, he said he’s going to make more anyway, right? He won’t miss a few of these.”

He did not know, though if he had checked his recipe before cutting the brownies, he may have, that blinkweed brownies are meant to be approximately one-quarter the size of a normal brownie, a one-inch square, in order to deliver an appropriate dose.

And he had absolutely no way of knowing that Noctis, Gladio, and Prompto would leave the apartment not ten minutes after arriving, leaving a diminished tray of brownies and a pile of dishes in the sink anew. 

In the grand scheme, these were small details to have missed. However, the world sometimes turns on such small things, and today, that was the case.

* * *

Ignis arrived back at Noctis’ apartment hardly forty minutes after he’d left the first time, and grimaced at the dirt he could already see in the entryway. He had asked them to wipe their boots outside the door, or leave the boots on the welcome mat. He hoped in vain they hadn’t left too much of a mess, only to see that in however long the others had been there, they’d rearranged the kitchen table and disordered all of Noctis’ unread memos and left plates and glasses in the sink. He heaved a sigh, but hurriedly began to whip up the second batch of brownies. He could worry about his other problems after he solved the first. 

He was just putting the new tray into the oven when he received a phone call, and saw it was Noctis. Ignis dried his hands on his apron and answered as promptly as he could. “Yes, Highness?”

_“Hi, Iggy.”_ Noctis sounded unusually calm, not sulky or distraught. Just calm. Perhaps even content. Ignis could also hear the faint ringing and electronic noise of an arcade behind Noctis, and also Prompto indistinctly chattering nearby. 

“Noct.” Ignis glanced to the memorandums that Noctis definitely had not read despite asking him a dozen times. “How can I help you?”

_“I’m good. Everything is fine.”_ There was a pause. _“Uh, not to worry you or anything, but I think I’m dead.”_

Ignis stopped in his tracks. “You’re… you’re dead.”

_“Uh huh.”_ Noctis still sounded as completely calm as he could. Suddenly, Prompto’s chattering became louder, and Ignis realized it sounded vaguely like the complete stream-of-consciousness that Prompto went into when he was in a panic, but nobody was stopping him. Gladio would have dope-slapped him and given him a noogie to ground him ten seconds ago by now. Noctis, however, continued to explain as if the situation were completely normal, _“Yeah, see, I’m dead, and Prompto is an angel and Gladio is Satan and they’re deciding what they want to do with me, so I’m gonna have to ask you to cancel dinner with my dad tomorrow night ‘cause I’m not sure I’m gonna make it.”_

Ignis spun about to go get his shoes, already prepared to depart, but it was mid-pivot that he spotted his plate of brownies: significantly diminished, with the “DO NOT EAT” note still left neatly on the top.

“Noctis.” Ignis tried very hard not to sound upset, as neutral as he could be given his inner voice utterly screaming in his own ear like an alert. “Before you died, did you, perchance, eat one of my brownies?”

_“No.”_

“Oh, good.” Ignis frowned and went to recount the brownies, until Noctis continued:

_“I had two. They were really good.”_

Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Noctis. Did Prompto or Gladiolus, perchance, eat one of my brownies?”

_“Prompto totally had one. He said he has to watch his girlish figure which I don’t get because he’s a stick and he’d still be cute even if he ate like six brownies. Now he grew wings and he can fly.”_

_“Noooooct!!”_ Prompto whined just off of the receiver. 

Ignis sighed again. “And how many did Gladio have?”

It was precisely then that Ignis heard Gladio open-mouthed screaming at the top of his lungs somewhere behind Noctis. 

When the noise faded, Ignis got an actual answer: _“Yeah, he had like four. He was hungry after his workout.”_

Ignis held his breath and counted to ten as Noctis continued to flatly babble into his ear, then checked the dosage. A quick bit of math made Ignis feel sick to his stomach. It was only now that he realized that the brownies were four times larger than a proper edible should be, and that all three of his most favorite people had just consumed very large doses of a psychoactive plant.

“Noctis. I am going to need you to listen to me.”

_“Yup. Hey, Prompto can-”_

“Noctis. Focus.”

_“Yup. Hey, G-”_

Gladio began to scream again, and Ignis groaned “Noctis!” Inspiration struck - Prompto was probably the least high out of the three of them. “Put Prompto on the phone!”

_“Sure, cool. Tell him to send me to Heaven.”_ There was a rustle, then a few mutters, then:

_“Hi, Iggy!”_ Prompto sounded like his usual cheerful self, but also like someone had put him on fast-forward. _“Iggy, those brownies were really awesome! Thank you so much!”_

“Your gratitude is most welcome, however, you must understand, I sincerely did not wish you to eat those brownies.” He knew they couldn’t possibly grasp _why_ right now, and he would certainly owe them an explanation later, but now was not the time. He tried to keep his voice even and chose his words with care as he tied his shoes back on, feeling too much like a Garula in a glass museum and like every single move caused only more damage. “I believe you all may be compromised.”

_“Compromised? Id’no’what’chamean.”_ Prompto now sounded like someone had put him on the spin cycle, and he suddenly loosed a peal of giggles. _“Oh, man, hang on, Noct is trying to climb the basketball game! Noct, I told you, you can go to Heaven, but you gotta wait!”_

Prompto’s pleas to Noctis became muffled, and Ignis stifled a groan. “Prompto, please! Pay attention to me!”

_“Anytime, babe!”_ Prompto giggled again. _“Hey, hey Iggy, Iggy, did Gladio show you my bullseye?”_

“He did,” Ignis sighed, wishing he could find this even a little endearing. “Prompto-”

_“It was great! He said I nailed it-”_

“Yes, he showed me, I saw-”

_“Nailed it!”_ Prompto sang it that time, giggling, and Ignis felt annoyance punch through all of his patience.

“Prompto.” Ignis knew his irritation was creeping into his voice. “Where are you?”

There was a long pause before a slightly sobered Prompto mumbled, _“The arcade on 5th and Confident Boulevard. The one we always go to.”_ Ignis promptly began to type the address into his GPS - he could walk, but he did not want to think about the prospect of herding all three of them five blocks back to the apartment through a crowded Insomnia, and Six forbid anyone see Noctis, _Crown Prince of Lucis,_ blazed on blinkweed _that he did not have a prescription to use!_

“Your cooperation is appreciated. I will be there soon.” He was about to hang up, when he heard another frantic cry:

_“Iggy, wait, Iggy, no!”_ Prompto sounded like he was teetering on the precipice of tears all of a sudden, and he pressed the phone back to his ear, cradling it to his head in worry that something horrible had happened in that blink of an eye. Instead, Prompto, voice watery, pleaded: _“You still love me, right?”_

Ignis, caught off guard, bit his lower lip as he stood upright. “Of course. I love all three of you even when you vex me.”

_“BUT YOU STILL LOVE ME, RIGHT?”_

“Yes.” Ignis closed his eyes for a long moment. “I very much do.” 

He cared about them more than anything else, if he was being truthful. It was why he had gotten the blinkweed in the first place. When he was so stressed he couldn’t sleep, he wasn’t able to do all the things he normally did to make their lives easier. He took the good with the bad, and wanted to be the best partner he could even when he wanted to string all three of them from the rafters. 

“I’m going to come to you with the car.” He grabbed the keys from the ring and hurried to the elevator. “I’d like to talk to Gladio now.”

_“He’s gone.”_

Ignis inhaled sharply, then pressed his aching head against the cool elevator wall. “Please, _please_ go and find him. I implore you.”

_“But you also love me, right?”_

Ignis muted the phone and screamed into his hands.

He loved them so very much. _He would not tolerate them otherwise._

* * *

Prompto managed to locate Gladio as Ignis got in the car: _“He was in the corner! Is it because he was bad?”_

Ignis had to strangle the desire to agree. “No.” He turned the key in the ignition and peeled out as he backed up. “Let me talk to him.”

_“Anything you want!”_

There was a beat, then a very small: _“Iggy?”_

Ignis tried to imagine Gladio, all six-foot-six-inches and two-hundred-plus pounds of muscle of him, crammed into a corner of an arcade, likely garnering stares and unwelcome curiosity. He sighed, and summoned something that passed for pity. “Yes, Gladio?”

_“Iggy, is… Prompto says the Gigantuar isn’t real, Iggy.”_ He inhaled shakily. _“He says there’s no Gigantuar but there is a Gigantuar, Iggy.”_

Ignis heaved a sigh and checked the directions on his phone. “I’m certain there is not a Gigantuar.”

_“Iggy, I’m sorry.”_ There was a crisp crackle of magic, and Ignis realized Gladio had summoned out of the Armiger. _“I’ll protect Noct!”_ There was another battle cry, and Ignis braced for the horrible crash of something Ignis would have to very quietly replace. Instead, there was just the squeal of a rubber chocobo toy.

Thank goodness Prompto made Noctis store his arcade prizes in the Armiger, no matter how many times Ignis told him that the Armiger wasn’t a toy. Gladio had clearly grabbed the wrong prize.

A moment later, Gladio, panting, came back on the line. _“THERE ARE CHOCOBOS EVERYWHERE!”_

Ignis tried not to hold Gladio’s hallucinations against him, but instead decided to play into the paranoia: “I believe there is a magical weapon hidden somewhere in the arcade that will eliminate the monsters.” Gladio inhaled sharply, and Ignis turned on the mystical tone: “I believe it is hidden in the claw machine.”

_“The claw!”_ Gladio exhorted ruefully.

“Yes, my old enemy,” Ignis replied evenly, keeping his eyes on the road and his tones low, mystical, and definitely not preemptively exhausted. “I need you to defeat the claw, my love. Get as many prizes out of it as-”

_“IT’S TIME FOR A POUNDING!”_

There was a horrible crunching noise, then the tinkle of shattering glass, and then the clatter of the phone hitting the ground. Ignis moaned and put his head on the steering wheel. A moment later, someone else picked up the phone.

_“Uh, hello?”_

Ignis forced calm professionalism for the unfamiliar speaker. “I take it you are the manager of the establishment my friends are currently running roughshod.”

_“Yeah, and I have a lot of questions.”_

“I have all of the answers.” Ignis grimaced and stared, despondent, at the red light that seemed to be glaring into eternity, unchanged like the expanse of the night sky and leaving his hopes just as black. “But first, let me begin with my credit card number and a polite request you sequester my three dear friends in your broom closet.”

* * *

The arcade manager could not store Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio in the broom closet. Gladio was just too big for that. 

However, he managed to keep two of them occupied in the employee break room with a few boxes of Sno-Caps and a few of those cheap sticky rubber hands given out as arcade prizes. The manager let Ignis into the arcade’s back door and into the employee area. Prompto appeared to be trying to launch himself up to the ceiling by flinging the sticky hand at the ceiling and jumping after it. Gladio was hiding under the table in the fetal position, staring into the coiled-up sticky hand on the floor in front of him as if it held all of the answers to the universe or at least to the crossword, which, really, was the best Ignis could ask for. 

“I see the two of you are still…” Ignis trailed off, as Prompto jumped after the hand again and landed on the chair he’d been standing on off-balance and toppled off. Ignis easily caught him, as Gladio whimpered under him. He looked to the manager. "Alright, where's the third one?"

The manager pointed to the door to the main room, and Ignis peeked in. He saw Noctis staring vacantly into the bed of a pinball machine. Not playing it. Just staring with blown-out pupils. Ignis ground his teeth together a moment. "Very well then."

Ignis approached Noctis and very nearly accosted him by grabbing him on the shoulder, then came up short and stopped. Noctis was staring between the pinball machine’s surface and then into his hands. Ignis hesitated, then asked, as gently as he could: “Did you want to play one game before we go?”

“Oh, hey Specs.” Noctis didn't look up. Instead, he spread his hands out “I wanted to play… but I can’t touch it… because I’m dead.”

“I see.” Ignis bit his lip for a moment. Noctis kept trying to touch the pinball machine, then appeared surprised when he actually - shock of all shocks - made physical contact, at which point he drew his hands away and slowly reached for the machine again. “And do you want to come back to life?”

“I mean… we all have to die someday.” Ignis winced at the very thought. “But I didn’t think it’d be today, y’know? I don’t wanna be dead yet.” Ignis’ chest panged, as Noctis contemplated the life, universe, and everything in the display screen. “I haven’t beaten Prompto’s high score yet.” Ignis snorted and put his palm over his face, as Noctis stared blankly into the machine again, then touched his hands together. “Isn’t it weird? I’m dead… but I can touch… everything… but...” He turned to Ignis, staring as if squinting at something very far away (and Ignis wasn’t convinced he wasn’t completely lost in the clouds), then touched his chest. “Are you dead too?”

“No, but I am here with a Phoenix down.” Ignis sighed and took him by the shoulder. “You’re coming back with me.”

“Cool.” Noctis didn’t even react to the pun, which Ignis accepted; after all, he was not at his best and his wordplay game was in the weeds, so to speak.

He steered Noctis out to the car and put his seatbelt on, then told him very firmly: “If you remove this seatbelt, Gladio will drag you down to hell, where all you will do is run sprints for eternity and there are no such things as naps.”

Noctis’ eyes went wide. Ignis counted the terror cutting through his altered mental state a minor victory. 

Next was Prompto. Prompto had somehow managed to knock over two chairs and one of the break room tables in his attempt to hang from the ceiling, and the poor, beleaguered manager was pinching his forehead as Gladio continued to shiver under the table. Ignis caught him on his next fall and put him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Prompto,” Ignis told him, “I’m going to need you to be on your very best behavior. Can you hold still for me and let me take you home?”

“But Iggy!” Prompto twisted around to look at him, eyes wide with panic. “I have to climb up to the roof to save Gladio! He’s gone!”

“Did a Gigantuar get him?” Ignis asked flatly as he carried him to the car.

“Uh-huh!”

“Did you see the Gigantuar?”

“No. But Gladio said the Gigantuar kidnapped him! And now he’s on the roof!” Prompto twisted in Ignis’ grip, which worked about as well as if the sticky hand were trying to escape Ignis’ grapple. Which is to say, not at all, just mildly unpleasant at best.

“Very well then.” Ignis glanced back to where Gladio was very much still huddled under the table with his knees to his chest, then set Prompto in the car next to Noctis, who seemed to be holding his breath in an effort to follow Ignis’ instructions. “I will go rescue him. I’m taller, so I can reach the roof easier.”

“Oh. Em. Gee,” Prompto gasped, as if this was some great revelation poured directly out of Shiva’s mouth. “ _Of course,_ you’re brilliant!” 

“Yes, yes.” Ignis put the seatbelt on Prompto. “Now stay right here while I fetch Gladio.”

He returned to the arcade’s back room, where Gladio was still shivering under the table. Ignis inhaled as he re-entered, then glanced sideways at the arcade manager, who looked just as bewildered as he’d sounded on the phone, which was, frankly, impressive. “Uh, so, your credit card cleared. Should I just, uh-”

“Just charge. Any damages. To that card.” Ignis bit the words off under his breath, and the manager jumped back. Ignis ignored him and got on his hands and knees. He tapped Gladio on the shoulder, and Gladio lifted his face. His pupils were completely blown out, and Ignis could almost see him watching his hallucinations. “Hello, darling.” 

Gladio stared through Ignis. “Nah, man, my guys are way smaller than you.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow - a difficult proposition with his head flat against a rather sticky and garish carpeted floor. “Am I the Gigantuar?”

“Gigantoad,” Gladio rasped, and Ignis, utterly unamused, scowled.

“No, I am a magical frog. Come ride on my back and I will take you to my magical pond.”

Gladio slowly nodded, and Ignis was able to coax Gladio out from under the table with a few beckoning waves of his hand. He extended a hand with a twenty-crown bill towards the manager as he walked past him with the terse instruction, “Speak of this to nobody,” and ushered Gladio into the car. 

“Come here,” he told Gladio as he pushed him out the door and into the waiting car. “You will be safe here. I’m going to take care of you.” Gladio nodded, and let Ignis sit him down in the car and put his seatbelt on. 

He closed the door to the back seat, with all three of his stoned friends safely ensconced, then circled around to the driver’s seat.

The car was locked. He attempted to unlock the car with the key, but the car locked again a second later. He scowled into the back seat, and saw Noctis had his finger on the lock mechanism on his side.

“You said Gladio would be safe,” Noctis said, muffled through the glass as he stared right through Ignis, and Ignis saw red for a second. “Gladio says you’re a Gigantoad. So we’re gonna wait for Ignis now.”

Ignis turned and put his face in his palm for a minute, willing himself not to scream. Then, he reached into the Armiger and summoned the rubber chocobo.

Prompto gasped.

Ignis squeaked the rubber chocobo toy, and Prompto began to squirm in place from between Noctis and Gladio to try to get to it.

“GUYS IT’S A _CHOCOBO!!”_

Noctis unlocked the car door, and Ignis hurriedly got in, turned the car on, and switched on the child lock before putting the car in drive and speeding out onto the main roads.

Prompto sang as loud as he could, off-key, to the songs he was hearing in every car they passed, as Noctis stared out into infinity like he was communing with Ramuh and Gladio tried to curl back into the fetal position, and Ignis chewed on his tongue like gum.

* * *

Noctis, Gladio, and Prompto were all loose as Ignis ushered them from the garage to the elevator, limbs like noodles and necks bobbing. Prompto kept inadvertently turning left, and Ignis would have to loop him back in, and Noctis kept stopping in place as he fell asleep on his feet. Gladio would stop too, then bolt for a corner to hide his face, and Ignis would have to go and retrieve him and coax them back into their awkward conga line.

However, by some miracle of the Six, he got them into the elevator and up to the apartment. Then, he sat all three of them on the sofa and wrapped each of them in a blanket, knowing there was only one cure for what ailed them: time. They would hopefully sober up from their inadvertently altered states of mind soon, even if the after-effects might take up to a whole day to peter out. Even so, all he could do was wait, so he would wait.

“I am certain,” he told them, as he tried to arrange them on the sofa and gave each of them a cup of water with a straw and a bowl of popcorn, “you realize you are not feeling quite like yourselves. You have all been compromised, but fear not, I am here to watch you.” He stood in front of them, hoping he came off more like a kindergarten teacher than a drill sergeant. “I am going to give you snacks, put on a movie, and wait for you to come back to yourselves. As long as you let me take care of you, I assure you, you will be fine.”

Noctis and Prompto nodded, very much resembling bobbleheads, and Gladio just let his head tip back on the sofa so he could stare through the ceiling. Perhaps he was just waiting for the Gigantuar to come through the roof, Ignis thought with a rueful curl of his lip. “Just remain there. Take a nap, if you like. Eat your snacks, drink your water. I’ll… I’ll be right back.” He stormed out of the room, only to find the fresh tray of brownies beside the partially emptied plate.

He shouldn’t have left it. But then, he shouldn’t have expected Noctis to actually listen to him.

How often did Noctis do that? Or, really, any of them? He often felt like most of what he said was merely taken under advisement. 

He peeked back at the living room for a moment, where Noctis had fallen asleep as Prompto enthusiastically focused on a cartoon movie about cars, and Gladio hid his face in the pillow, surely believing the cars had come to life. However, they were all on the sofa, which was all Ignis could ask.

Ignis needed a minute. So he took it, with his face down on the table and his arms cradling his aching head. He wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, already feeling his joints too tight and his eyes burning, and he had far too much to do. However, he would take a minute, then get back to it.

Such a pity, the blinkweed had only worsened his stress.

* * *

The next thing Ignis knew was a big hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Iggy?” Ignis lifted his head from his arms and saw Gladio standing behind him. He slowly craned his neck around to take the larger man in. He looked like he was standing more steady now, though still a little peaky, and his pupils were still slightly dilated. Ignis faintly realized that the room was much darker than it had been last he looked, and he wondered if he hadn’t fallen asleep. If he had slept, it was the restless, dreamless sort of sleep that didn’t actually restore him. Instead, he found himself smacking his lips at his own dry mouth and Gladio smiled right through Ignis’ sour disposition, his gruff face made soft with his teddy-bear affection. “Sorry to wake you, but I figured you would rather sleep in the bed.” 

“Er, yes.” Ignis quickly rubbed his eyes and sat up, smoothing his hair back into place. It seemed the pomade had run out, and his bangs just fell flat onto his forehead after he tried to slick them back. Gladio slapped his back.

“It’s fine, I kinda dig the sleep-mussed look.” His palm stilled on Ignis’ back. “So, hey, not to hit you with the heavy stuff right after you wake up from a nap, but I think someone might’ve slipped me blinkweed.” 

Ignis blinked in surprise and twisted around. “Ah - see - how did you-”

“I know, it’s not _exactly_ legal, but some of the Glaives were passing it around at someone’s birthday party and I tried a hit.” Gladio grinned sheepishly. “Turns out I, uh, don’t take it so well. And I kind of vaguely remember hallucinating an entire flock of chocobos in the arcade.” 

“Ah.” Ignis inhaled sharply, then craned his neck around towards the sofa. Noctis and Prompto were asleep on top of one another under the quilt as the movie sat on the title screen, the menu music looping. “I do owe the three of you an explanation.” 

Gladio frowned. "Do we need to make a security report or something? I mean, I definitely didn't smoke it, so I’m thinking someone might’ve put some extract in my drink or-"

"No," Ignis sighed, "but all three of you received an inadvertent dose of edible blinkweed. I’d rather only explain this once, so let’s wake the others so I can do so, and then you can decide if we need to report this incident to the Glaive.”

To his shame, he hadn’t even thought he might need to report himself to the authorities for letting Noctis eat his medicine. Perhaps he’d been better off at his previous level of anxiety.

Noctis and Prompto were both groggy at being awoken, but Prompto perked up quickly at a kiss on the forehead from Gladio which he nuzzled up into, and Ignis gave Noctis two painkillers and a fresh glass of water. Noctis smiled softly, gratefully, and let Ignis kiss the top of his head as he took them. Ignis did so dearly appreciate that they could share such casual affection, even when he had been less than kind to them, even when they annoyed him. He strived to enjoy this moment for as long as it could last. 

Then, he resigned himself to clearing the fog and accepting whatever was left when the smoke cleared.

“I trust,” he said, as Gladio settled himself between Prompto and Noctis and slung his arms over their shoulders, “that the three of you are mostly feeling yourselves again.” 

“Yeah, um.” Prompto raised his hand. “I actually don’t remember most of today, if I’m being honest.”

“One second I’m at the arcade,” Noctis pitched in, “the next I’m waking up here. It’s just kind of a long blank.”

“We got dosed with blinkweed.” Gladio grinned and shook both of the others around, eliciting a discomfited grunt from Noctis and a chuckle from Prompto as he tried to push Gladio off. “I’ve had it before so I know what it feels like. Shame you two don’t remember the first time you ever get stoned.” 

“Seriously?” Noctis gripped his chin and squeezed his own cheeks as if he could convince the memory out of his muscles. “I wish I remembered any of it. I mean, I was definitely feeling no pain, but…”

“I kinda remember?” Prompto said, as Noctis trailed off. “Like, I remember feeling weirdly loose. Like nothing really mattered, and I just felt like being in the moment. I can’t remember any of those moments, but…”

“Apparently, we got pretty big doses,” Gladio rumbled. “So, it wasn’t what you’d call a normal high. The real question is how we got dosed.” He faced Ignis. “You said you know what happened, Specs?”

All three of them were looking to him now, listening intently. Ignis rued everything there was to rue, then put it as plainly as he could, with the same straight-forward logic that he usually let guide everything he did: “You may have noticed that I’ve been a bit stressed as we’ve been preparing for the trip to Altissia.” Noctis instantly frowned, Prompto’s brow knit, and Gladio’s warm smile sank away. Ignis wished he could stop, but alas. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping and feeling run-down. I saw my doctor today, and I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety and a stress disorder.” That got three sets of eyes so wide that the sight would have been comical were Ignis not keenly aware of his heart aching. “I was prescribed blinkweed for my anxiety, since I didn’t want to take a medicine that might have adverse side effects. I did not wish to smoke out of fear of damaging my lungs, so I elected an edible version. I chose to bake the weed into brownies, as I rather fancy chocolate-”

“That’s why you told me not to eat them,” Noctis interrupted in a whisper, mortified, then shouted: “You were trying to keep us out of the weed!”

Something about the way Noctis said that broke through what little of Ignis’ tolerance remained. “Of course! There’s usually a bloody reason I tell you to do things!” 

Noctis’ jaw dropped. Prompto clapped his hands to his mouth. Gladio grimaced and sank back. Ignis shivered in the silence, realizing that he’d tipped more of his hand than he’d even realized was there. Prompto was the first to speak: “Are you mad at us?”

“Not mad - I’m - I’m certainly-” Ignis struggled with the words, wishing dearly he could say anything else, but finally spit out, “I’m frustrated. I’m frustrated because I often feel there is more on my plate than I can handle and I’m constantly thinking about it, and even when I ask for help, it’s never there. I don’t want to burden any of you, but I can still see things I’ve asked of you that remain untouched.” Ignis motioned around the room again at all the things he’d meant to do but hadn’t gotten to. The laundry was still in the basket. The sink was still full. The table was still covered with a mess of unread memorandums. Noctis visibly deflated, and Gladio shot him a scowl.

“Nice job, your Highness.”

“We didn’t have to listen to Noct when he said it was cool to eat the brownies,” Prompto mumbled, earning a bitter glare from Noctis. “It’s true. Sorry, Noct, but me and Gladio made our share of mistakes too.”

“It’s…” Ignis hesitated, then bowed his head into his hands. “It’s not just Noctis… I… I know that I cannot run your lives, but I dearly wish to take care of you all. I only wish the task were not so monumental.” 

“It’s too much,” Gladio muttered, shaking his head and slowly rolling to a stand. Ignis spread his fingers so he could see him, sympathetic and scowling - likely angry at himself for not realizing the problem sooner or at the other two for exacerbating it. “You have a full-time job. We shouldn’t just be an extension of that job for you.”

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed, folding his arms across his chest with resolution. “I promise that if you ask me to do something that’ll make your life easier, I’ll try to do it.”

“Yeah.” Noctis stood too, but he approached Ignis, hands out, eyes wide and wet, and Ignis peered through his fingers and saw Noctis trying to move his hands from his face. “I let things get off track and forgot about your feelings. Even when you were trying to take care of yourself without worrying us, not listening to you just made things worse for you.” He wrapped his hands around Ignis’ palms and gently eased them away from his face, then got on tiptoes to kiss Ignis on the forehead. It reminded him of when Noctis was smaller and needed so much more from him, and that Noctis was still vulnerable. Stronger than he’d been, but still vulnerable. “I’m sorry. I want you to trust me. I’ll do what I have to so I can earn that trust.” 

Ignis relented enough to lean his cheek into Noctis’ palm. He knew Noctis never set out to harm him, and after all, Noctis was his Prince. Someday, he’d need to trust him. “I believe you, Noct. I’ll do my best to confide in you.”

“Hey,” Noctis said softly. “I’ll earn it.” He turned to the others. “I need to take care of some stuff. Mind giving me a hand with a little of it?”

“Yeah, sure!” Prompto jumped up. “I’m feeling a little itchy after vegging out all afternoon. Lemme hit the sink.” He winked at Ignis: “The brownie was really good, by the way, even if it was full of pot.” 

Ignis’ lips quirked into a smile without his say-so, just as Gladio rose and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll go help Noct sort the memos. I might have some stuff to add, anyway, especially with some of the Guard stuff.”

“And, hey. You stay right here.” Noctis drew back from Ignis, then turned and strode into the kitchen. He took up one of the brownies, put it in a paper napkin, then returned and put it into Ignis’ palm. “You eat this, put your feet up, and relax. We’ll put on some coffee for you.” 

Ignis looked at the piece of brownie in his hand, then looked to the others. Prompto was helping to clear the sink, sorting the dishes and glasses into the dishwasher. Gladio was sorting the memos into piles for Noctis, organizing them into neat piles. Noctis was filling the coffee machine. 

He could relax. They would take care of them. Perhaps next time, he would invite all of them to relax with him (even without a prescription). Ignis broke off a reasonably sized portion of the brownie, then settled onto the familiar sofa. 

Ignis had read that blinkweed inspired some, but he was grateful it had inspired a little change. Perhaps a little later, he’d be inspired to share again - albeit in lower doses, just enough to let Noctis shake off his own anxieties, enough so Prompto could feel at ease to be himself. Gladio, as laid back as he could be when he wasn’t put to task, would probably be content to sit back and enjoy their antics. For now, however, he took in the atmosphere, anticipated the others finishing their tasks to join him, blinked, and rested.


End file.
